A New Year, A New Beginning
by nessabutterfly
Summary: Usagi attends a New Year's Masked ball by herself and meets a handsome stranger who dresses as Tuxedo Mask for the event.  But when it's time to remove the masks, they are in for a surprise.


"That ought to do it," Usagi announced, spinning one last time before the floor length mirror on the back of her door. Her full pink dress floated in soft clouds of chiffon and organza, gracefully brushing the toes of her new kitten heeled sandals. Wide organza ribbons were threaded through her odango and woven into her ponytails. A simple strand of pale pink freshwater pearls was clasped around her slender neck.

"Usagi, you are breathtaking," asserted her mother as she followed her husband out the front door. A moment later the door was pushed open again and Ikuko's voice called out in typical mother fashion, "And be careful!"

As the door swung shut for the second time, Usagi picked up her pink wool jacket, shrugging it on over her dress. She had to get going herself if she wanted to be on time. As she grasped the door handle, she realized that she had forgotten a crucial part of her outfit. Running back to her bedroom, she scooped a heavily jeweled mask from her dresser. Her mother had designed and sewn the beautiful dress, but the mask had been her own creation. She had spent days painstakingly gluing the tiny crystals onto the mask to form sparkling butterfly wings.

Carefully securing the mask over her eyes, Usagi ran back down the stairs and out of the house. It felt weird to be walking to such an elaborate ball all by herself, but all of her friends had made other plans for New Years Eve by the time the Masquerade had been announced. When confronted with a choice of sitting at home by herself, or attending the grand event, the choice had been obvious.

Upon entering the grand ballroom of the Juban District's most expensive hotel, Usagi began to feel overwhelmed. Women swept past her in lovely designer gowns, their hair styled elaborately. She was probably the youngest person here. Certainly she was the least impressive. Moved by feelings of inadequacy, Usagi wished she had never come and was turning to collect her coat when she saw him.

"Tuxedo Mask?" she asked in wonder. Could it really be?

The whispered words caught his attention and he turned to her, immediately struck by her beauty. With a smile, he closed the gap between them and, using her same whispering tone, he replied, "It's a great costume, isn't it?" When disappointment filled her bright eyes and she was about to turn away, he grasped her hand and asked quickly, with a sort of desperation, "My lady, may I have this dance?"

Usagi was about to turn him down and go home as she had planned, but he struck her as being better company than the television. With a shy smile, she allowed the handsome gentleman to lead her out onto the dance floor. As one dance turned into two, and then three, Usagi found herself opening up to the mysterious stranger who so closely resembled the masked man of her dreams.

When dinner was served, she allowed him to seat her beside himself. The evening flew by like a dream, and Usagi found herself wanting it to continue tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. The stranger was kind and considerate, and utterly charming; the sort of man she could bring home to her parents. Well, on second thought, he was too mature for her father to approve, which only heightened the allure.

At the end of a set of dances, he leaned over to kiss her and Usagi felt her heart pounding in her chest. Her first kiss would be from this masked stranger. Oh how romantic. Assuming the posture she had seen in romantic movies, she gently closed her eyes and leaned in towards him, ever so slightly, turning her face up towards him. After a few moments, she realized that he was not kissing her. Peeking one eye open ever so slightly, she saw that he had removed his mask and was staring at her with those gorgeous pools of blue. Wait, she recognized those eyes.

"You!" she spit out with surprise. "You?" her voice raised a few notches and her eyes took on a rare fiery quality. "I hate you!" she screamed, turning on her heel and running from the ballroom, leaving the man to clutch his mask and wonder at the young beauty's strange outburst. 

O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O

Mamoru stood speechless as the beautiful blonde's face clouded and horror filled her eyes. "You!" she exclaimed, backing away from him as if he were a venomous snake. "I hate you!" she spat and turned, running from the ballroom.

"What did I do?" he mumbled to himself, watching the last tendrils of hair drift around the corner. It shimmered like spun gold, just like—"Odango Atama?" He whispered the words to the unhearing ears around him. It couldn't be. Odango was stupid, and this girl had spoken eloquently. Odango was a klutz, always falling all over herself and him, but this angel had practically floated on the dance floor. Odango was an annoying crybaby, but this magnificent creature had captivated his every thought for the past five hours. And most of all Odango hated him and this girl—"You! I hate you!"

The fury in this girl's eyes was the same as when he ran into Odango Atama, or when he found a crumpled test marked with a failing grade. For that matter, it was the same look he received when he called the girl Odango Atama. Odango. Such beautiful shining locks, flowing like spun gold—why had he never noticed before? She was beautiful!

After a few minutes, Mamoru shook his head. She hated him- she had said so herself, aloud, and within earshot of half of the event attendees. And he hated her. Didn't he? Attempting to shrug off the whole encounter, he turned and asked the closest available female to dance. And then he did so again and again, trading partners after each song. He found himself continually leading the women toward the exit during each dance, gazing toward the door expectantly.

As the image of her golden hair drifting through the doorway filled his mind yet again, he knew that he needed to go to her. He politely handed off his current partner to a waiting escort and walked off of the dance floor. Maybe he could catch her still if he hurried. Mamoru reached into his pocket and pulled out his treasured star shaped pocket watch, the hands showed 11:38. Odango had left at 10:15. He had just checked his watch and he distinctly remembered her admiring the heirloom. But, how was this large time gap possible? Had he really been dancing for over an hour? Her angry words rang loudly in his ears as though she had volleyed them at him just moments ago.

Running a hand hastily through his thick, black hair, Mamoru turned to grab his overcoat from the nearby cloakroom. As he tugged it from the hanger, the coat next to his also came off, falling to the floor with a gentle thud. Bending to pick it up, an odd feeling of recognition swept over him. This little bunny patch on the lapel—he was sure that it was Usagi's jacket. The girl had gone out in the middle of the night without any protection against the harsh December weather.

Mamoru clutched the jacket to his chest and ran out of the cloakroom with speed that was matched only by his racing thoughts and pounding heart. Odango Atama—Usagi—was in danger. But then Mamoru paused to remember the fact that Usagi had left over an hour ago. By this time she was probably tucked snugly into her bed.

"Maybe I should wait," he mused quietly. He would surely run into her in a few days anyways. But he knew deep inside that he had to go to her tonight. Tucking the jacket carefully into his tuxedo jacket, he jogged from the hotel. He was not entirely sure where she lived, but once she had run into him while he was out jogging. She had burst explosively from a house quite near to his own apartment. Surely this was where she lived. And if not, it was the home of a friend who could give him directions. Running quickly in the direction of the house, Mamoru completely forgot his car, parked just around the corner in the hotel's parking garage. His desperation to see Usagi had taken over every one of his senses, most of all, his common sense.

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Closing the door behind herself with a sigh, Usagi sank to the floor of the entryway and hugged her knees to her body. She was tired. She was cold. She was confused. Her mind had bounced back and forth between two feelings as she walked home in the damp, chilly night air. The handsome stranger she had spent the evening with was charming. He had been so attentive to her needs. He had been—perfect. But then he had taken off his mask. It was all an act. She was sure of it. Mamoru was baka! He was mean, and rude and sarcastic. Usagi nodded to herself in the darkened entryway. Yes, she was right to leave before he discovered her identity and made the night any worse than it already was.

Gathering the billowing dress around her, she stood up and marched up the stairs to her room, slamming the door behind her. It was easier to be mad. With a sigh, she pulled the jeweled mask from her face and slammed it onto the dresser so hard that a few of the rhinestones bounced off and onto the floor. Removing her dress, Usagi slipped into her pajamas and crawled under the covers. Normally she would have had a hard time getting to sleep when her emotions were in such turmoil, but the walk home after a long night of dancing combined with the weight of the warm blankets on her chilled skin put Usagi to sleep almost instantly.

Of course, her frenzied emotions did not leave her so easily. Usagi's mind instantly conjured up a dream featuring the evening's events. She stood in the dark, surrounded by only the light of the stars, her new dress fluttering in a soft breeze. Tuxedo mask appeared before her, a sword through his heart. "Why don't you love me," he whispered, his voice laced with pain.

"Oh, but I do", she cried, running towards him, but not getting any closer. "I do love you. I will always love you!" She stopped running and fell to the ground, catching her tear-stained face in her hands.

Lifting a weak hand to his face, he pulled the mask from his eyes and asked with his last breath, "Would you love me if I was him?" Usagi ran to him, but found in his place, a cold and lifeless Mamoru. As she knelt over his body, she let out a heart-wrenching sob.

Sitting up with a start, Usagi looked around her room in confusion. Where was she? Where was Mamoru? When her eyes focused in the dark, she remembered that she was in her bed. The sound of a chiming clock registered in the background. Was it the clock or her own screams that had awakened her? Looking at the rabbit shaped clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was midnight. "Happy New Year," she whispered into the darkness.

What a way to ring in the New Year. Of course, what was New Years about anyways? Starting over? Making things new? Second chances? No. Mamoru didn't deserve a second chance. He was mean, rude, always teasing. And yet, tonight he had been so gentlemanly. She had enjoyed talking with him and dancing with him. He was a genuinely interesting person. And this was the most time she had ever spent with him. What if it wasn't an act? What if … what if Mamoru really was a nice person? Oh goodness, the poor boy was probably wondering what he had done to deserve the way she had run out on him. Stupid Usagi. If nothing else, she had to go apologize.

Hastily pulling off her pajamas, Usagi slipped into her dress, zipping it carefully. She picked up her mask, and held it up to her face, but then put it back down on the dresser. No more masks. No more secrets. She crept soundlessly to the front door, though she was not sure why she was being so quiet. Her parents were still at their party and would not be home for several hours. Usagi herself was not expected home for some time either.

She slid her feet into her shoes and pulled the door open, but found that it had started to rain since she had come home. Grabbing a lace-edged pink umbrella from the stand by the door, she hurried out and down the street, hardly remembering to shut the door behind herself. 

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Mamoru was just a few blocks from Usagi's house when he paused for a break. He had run for nearly two kilometers and his lungs were about to burst from the constant onslaught of frosty air. He bent down, resting his hands on his knees for support.

Replaying the evening once more in his mind, the events rolled by in a pleasant blur until the moment he had removed his mask. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." The words played over and over, etching themselves into his mind. Why was he out here searching for a girl who hated him? A girl he hated? Though try as he might to remember why he had disliked the girl, he could not think of even one reason. After the evening they had spent together, all of her once-annoying tendencies seemed endearing. In fact, he looked back at previous encounters with her and could not help but smile at her childish antics. She was honest, loving, and adorable. And contrary to his assumptions based on the failed tests that so often landed in his hands, Usagi was witty and intelligent.

But she hated him. Mamoru let out a strangled cry of frustration, clutching at his hair again. It had been easier when he had also disliked her, but the thought of being mean to her made his heart contract painfully.

Just then, the clock on a nearby school tower began to chime. Midnight already? With each chime of the clock, Mamoru's heart pulsed with indecision. I love her. She hates me. I love her.

At the sound of the last chime, a raindrop landed on Mamoru's cheek, joining the single tear that had escaped. Together, they rolled down his closely shaved face and fell to the ground.

With a shudder, Mamoru pushed himself up to stand once again, fresh raindrops washing his face clean. Turning back towards the hotel, he reasoned that it did not matter what he felt towards her. She hated him. But instead of running, he walked slowly and sadly away from the girl he loved, letting the rain soak his clothes and dampen his soul.

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Usagi hurried down the deserted streets toward the hotel. It had been hours since she had made her exit, but she hoped that Mamoru would still be there. A quick glance at her watch confirmed that it was only quarter after twelve. Who would leave a New Year's Eve party before midnight? "You did," came a small voice from the back of her mind. Yeah, well, that was different. Or at least she hoped it was.

She had been awfully mean to Mamoru. Hopefully he would be willing to forget her earlier actions. Then again, who was to say that he would not react in exactly the same way when she revealed herself to him. Mamoru had made his hatred of her no secret.

Usagi stopped walking abruptly. Why give him another chance? Now that she had stopped running, Usagi felt the cold night air on her damp arms. She had forgotten her jacket at the hotel and her umbrella was doing little to keep the blowing rain off of her bare arms.

"I'm so stupid," she called out into the night, but the heavy rain carried her words swiftly to the ground. Finally Usagi began to move forward once more. She had decided to go to him, to give him another chance. The fact that she was wet and cold made no difference.

Squaring her shoulders, Usagi took a deep breath and began to jog toward the hotel. But as she came around a corner, she collided with a large, solid object and fell firmly on her behind, landing in a large muddy puddle.

"My dress," she moaned, plucking at the layers of slimy chiffon. "Watch where you're going, baka!" she spit out, then gasped as the man turned around. "Mamoru? What are you doing here?"

Mamoru sputtered and mumbled, glad that the rain hid his crimson-stained cheeks. Finally he regained his composure and said coolly, "I was going home."

"Oh," replied Usagi with a small voice, turning her face toward the ground. Suddenly a fierce shiver swept over her tiny frame, causing her to grip her arms tightly, rubbing her hands over the icy skin.

Without thinking, Mamoru pulled Usagi's little pink jacket from under his own and draped it around her shoulders.

"Mamoru!" she gasped, looking up at him with wonder in his eyes.

"You," he began hesitantly, then paused to gather courage. "You forgot it at the dance. I was bringing it to you."

A smile threatened to break across Usagi's face, but she held it in check, asking, "How did you know it was me?"

"Your hair, Odango Atama. I have always loved your hair." He raised a tentative hand to her face and wrapped a damp tendril around his fingers. "Like silk."

Suddenly Usagi jumped backwards, throwing his hand away from her face. "You knew? You knew and you let me make a fool of myself? You knew I hated you, but you let me fall in love with you anyways?" When Usagi realized what she had said, she put her hands over her mouth and began to back away from Mamoru.

"Usagi, you… Usagi!" Mamoru screamed her name and reached for her as she walked backward into the curb. He was able to reach his arms around her slender body as she fell, but there was too much momentum and Mamoru landed directly on top of her on the muddy grass.

"You baka! Get off of me!" screamed Usagi, struggling to breath.

"Actually, I don't think I will," he said with a grin. "I wouldn't want you to run away again. You know why I'm out here," he said, tugging at the shoulder of her jacket. "But why are you?"

Usagi stared up into Mamoru's serious face and took a deep breath. Why am I here? "Because I…" Usagi couldn't say the words, but her eyes betrayed her feelings.

With a final deep breath, Mamoru closed his eyes and dipped his head down to brush Usagi's lips with his own. "Happy New Year—Usako." 


End file.
